


Protest too much

by notnicorette



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 13:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7576186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notnicorette/pseuds/notnicorette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sort of satirical one-shot, because parts of shipping this ship are ridiculous and I needed a laugh.</p><p>Definitely Bellarke, y'all. AU (sort-of?). And Lincoln is alive, because duh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protest too much

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I needed a laugh, and I figured someone else did too.
> 
> I've never written AU before, but basically, everything that happened on the show happened here, just in a modern setting. I left the "dangerous stuff" Lexa dragged Clarke into ambiguous (because this was more about making a point than coming up with fake backstory), but basically, just assume drug dealing/mafia/something similar.
> 
> This was supposed to be purely humor, but apparently I can't write Bellarke without a little sap? #sorrynotsorry (for any of this)

Clarke Griffin idly ran her finger through the moisture on her glass. The rum and coke inside was almost gone. Pity.

                She and Octavia were sitting at a high top at their favorite bar, while Lincoln and Monty stood around the same table. Jasper had gone to get another beer, and Bellamy had muttered something about using the restroom. As soon as Raven showed up, it would be a normal Friday night for the group.

                Jasper sidled up next to where she was sitting at the high top. “So…where’s Bellamy?”

                “He went to the…” Her eyes narrowed as the question fully registered. “How am I supposed to know, Jasper? I’m not his keeper.”

                Jasper’s eyes widened a little while, from the seat next to her, Octavia’s eyes narrowed.

                Jasper started hesitantly, “I just…”

                Clarke turned when she felt someone give her chair a slight bump.

                Bellamy grinned at her, then at the rest of the table. “Problem, Princess?”

                Clarke shot him a death glare. “No. Jasper wanted you.”

                Bellamy’s gaze turned to the tall, lanky boy beside her. “What’s up, Jasper?”

                “The dart board is free. You in?”

                Bellamy nodded, and he, Jasper, and Monty headed toward the back of the bar.

                Octavia waited until they were out of earshot before she turned to Clarke. “What was that about?”

                Clarke just stared at her drink. “What was what about?”

                “You, biting Jasper’s head off.”

                Clarke’s voice immediately rose. “I didn’t…” She took a deep breath at her friend’s raised eyebrow. “Sorry. Off night, I guess.”

                Octavia’s gaze narrowed even more, if that was possible. “Right.”

                Clarke quickly downed what was left in her glass. “I’m getting another. Anyone need anything?”

                She barely waited for Octavia and Lincoln to both shake their heads before disappearing.

                Miller, who was tending bar tonight, nodded to her as she claimed a stool at the bar, indicating that he’d be with her as soon as he finished with the group in front of him.

                She nodded back, grabbing a handful of peanuts as she waited.

                Before more than a couple minutes had passed, she saw Lincoln slide onto the bar stool next to her.

                Her eyebrows rose. “Leave your girlfriend alone in a bar on a Friday night?”

                Lincoln snorted. “Please. Raven got here.” He nodded toward the table, where Raven and Octavia were talking animatedly and seemingly looking back and forth between Clarke and Bellamy. “We both know Raven could kick more ass than me anyway.”

                Clarke nodded. Lincoln might be about 9 feet tall, muscular as all get out, and covered in tattoos…but everyone knew Raven was the terrifying one of the group.

                They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Clarke and Lincoln had never been super close, but he was, by nature, a quiet man. Octavia was the only one he really opened up to. That’s why it surprised Clarke when he kept the conversation going, and it really surprised her when he chose the topic he did.

                He spoke quietly from beside her. “It’s okay to move on, you know.”

                Her head whipped in his direction. “Excuse me?”

                “It’s okay to move on with your life, Clarke. It’s okay to want to be happy.”

                “What…are you even talking about?”

                Lincoln narrowed his eyes, letting her know he wasn’t buying what she was trying to sell. “Clarke… Lexa has been gone for over six months.”

                “I’m aware how long she’s been dead, thanks. What does that have to do with anything?”

                Lincoln sighed. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

                Clarke drummed her fingers on the bar. “Nope.”

                “You and Bellamy have something special, you always have. You had it long before you ever met Lexa, and you still do.”

                Clarke’s mouth opened, then closed. “I…” She pursed her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Bellamy and I are platonic. We’re friends. That’s it. Lexa was my…”

                She didn’t finish that sentence. She never knew how to finish that sentence. At the time of Lexa’s death, they hadn’t exactly been dating.

                Lincoln put his hand gently on Clarke’s forearm. “I know you two were…something. I’m not denying that. Everyone knows something happened between you two. But Clarke…she was emotionally manipulative. She forced you into dangerous situations. She made you do things you didn’t want to do. She tried to make you forget who you were.”

                Clarke’s lips thinned. “She tried to be better…right before…”

                “I know she did. Don’t forget, I knew her long before you did. The influence you had on her was really something, Clarke. She really was turning into a better person near the end.  But…you realize that doesn’t make up for everything she did before that, right?”

                Clarke stared at a bottle behind the counter. “We’ve all made mistakes, Lincoln.”

                “Yeah, we have.”

                “I can’t just…it’s only been 6 months. And she was my…” She sighed exasperatedly. “She was my whatever!”

                Lincoln nodded. “I know she was. But Clarke…did you love her?”

                Clarke’s gaze flew to his. “What? Of course I did.”

                Lincoln’s gaze softened. “Clarke, I understand you feel guilty, but…”

                “It’s not guilt!”

                Half the bar turned in their direction as she practically shouted that sentence.

                Lexa had died after a mugging gone wrong. The two girls had been walking home one night, when a man, very clearly on drugs, had flashed a gun in their faces and herded them into an alleyway. Clarke had handed over her purse without complaint, but when the creep asked for her father’s watch, she’d steadfastly refused.

                The mugger had raised his gun, whether to actually shoot her, or just to scare her, she would never know. But when a cat knocked over a trashcan behind him, his drug hazed body had turned partially and accidentally pulled the trigger. Lexa was the one who had fallen, clutching her stomach. The mugger had run, and Clarke had been left holding Lexa’s dying body.

                Clarke swallowed as she replayed the night in her mind.

                “Clarke, I’m not trying to tell you how to feel. I’m just saying that no one would think any less of you if you didn’t claim to love her. She hurt you. She hurt people you love. She got YOU to hurt people you love. She really wasn’t a nice person. And you don’t have to mourn her or claim to have feelings you don’t just because she’s dead and you feel guilty.”

                Clarke looked at him warily. Lincoln really wasn’t one to broach emotional topics at all. He certainly wasn’t one to give unsolicited advice. So if he was trying this hard to get through to her, maybe she should listen.

                She nodded softly.

                Miller chose that moment to walk over. “What’s going on?” He asked, already pulling the top off another beer for Lincoln, and then mixing another rum and Coke for Clarke.

                Lincoln took a drink of his beer before grinning at Clarke. “Just figuring out how long Clarke and Bellamy are going to dance around each other.”

                Clarke rolled her eyes as Miller slid her drink toward her.

                Miller leaned against the counter in front of them. “Oh, good! Did you guys ever start that betting pool? I totally want in on that.”

                “I’m not sure. Raven was working on it, last I heard. Talk to her.”

                Miller nodded.

                Clarke huffed. “I’m sitting right here!”

                Both men turned to her.

                Miller raised an eyebrow. “Did you need something else, Clarke?”

                “What the fuck are you two talking about?!”

                “Do you finally want to discuss how you and Bellamy are…”

                She cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “PLATONIC. Bellamy and I are PLATONIC. Jesus fucking Christ.”

                With that, she slid off the bar stool and made her way back to the table where Octavia and Raven were waiting.

                “Hey Raven,” she murmured, giving her friend a quick hug before sitting down beside her.

                “Hey. You look nice.” Her friend took in the short dress she had on, as well as the way her hair was curled. “Any particular reason?” Raven wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, glancing toward the back of the bar, where it looked like Bellamy was kicking Jasper’s ass at darts.

                “Oh my God. Not you, too.”

                Octavia grinned, taking a drink of her margarita. “Actually, us TWO, too.”

                Clarke groaned, leaning her head on the table.

                “Seriously. Why don’t you just admit how you feel about my brother?” Octavia asked.

                “I don’t…there is no…”

                Raven rolled her eyes. “Oh, right. I forgot. We’re only allowed to talk about Lexa.”

                Clarke’s head snapped up to glare at her friend. “Raven! She’d DEAD!”

                Raven leaned forward. “I know she is, Clarke. And I’m sorry, if that’s something you genuinely care about. But you’re not the only one who’s lost someone. And Finn may have been a cheating asshole, but he wasn’t an emotionally abusive scumbag, unlike Lexa.”

                “She…she got better. She tried to help at the end…”

                Raven leaned back. Her eyes sad. “Yeah. It’s a shame she couldn’t have gotten a conscience back before she had Finn killed.”

                Clarke swallowed, because Raven wasn’t wrong.

                They sat there in an awkward silence for a moment, both thinking about the boy they’d lost.

                Octavia broke the silence. “So. You and Bell.”

                Clarke sighed, taking a rather large gulp of her drink. “Seriously. There is no me and Bell.”

                Now, Octavia rolled her eyes. “Please! There has ALWAYS been a ‘you and Bell.’ Ever since you two met, there has been this pull between you…”

                Clarke snorted. “Uh, are you forgetting about when we hated each other?”

                Octavia grinned. “I don’t think you ever really hated each other. I think that was just more…you know…sexual tension.”

                “Jesus Christ.”

                Octavia’s expression turned serious. “Seriously though, Clarke. Any idiot can see how you two look at each other…everything you do for each other…how much you care about each other.”

                “Yeah. Cause we’re FRIENDS.”

                “All of us are friends, Clarke. But you and my brother…that’s something else entirely.”

                Clarke didn’t know what else to do, so she took another drink.

                “When you left…when you ended up with Lexa…you don’t know what that did to him. He…lost it.”

                “I wasn’t WITH Lexa then. She had me kidnapped, you know that. And then I stayed to keep the peace.”

                Raven looked pointedly at Clarke. “WE know that. But sometimes I wonder if you forget.”

                Clarke ignored that, fiddling with her straw. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

                “You know he risked his life, trying to get you back, right?” Octavia asked quietly.

                Clarke swallowed thickly, blinking back tears. Yeah, she knew about the ridiculous risk he’d taken, trying to save her. She had, of course, seen him when he’d shown up at the abandoned warehouse where her kidnappers were holding her, but she hadn’t known about the risks he’d taken to get there; hadn’t known that he’d almost gotten himself killed to save her. But Monty had crashed on her couch one night after drinking too much and had spilled everything.

                “Yeah. I know.” She replied softly.

                Raven spoke up. “So…go tell the man ‘thank you’ properly!” She wiggled her eyebrows.

                Clarke rolled her eyes.

                Raven leaned in conspiratorially. “Oh, come ON! At least tell us what’s going on between you two!”

                “NOTH-ING!” Clarke said, drawing the syllables out.

                Everyone chose that moment to return to the table, Lincoln and Miller from the bar, where Harper had taken over, and Bellamy, Jasper, and Monty from the back of the bar, where Bellamy had trounced Jasper.

                Bellamy stood in-between Octavia and Raven, which put him across the table from Clarke. He grinned at her wickedly. “Why are you always shouting when I come back to the table?”

                  She glared at him. “Shut up.”

                Jasper made a childish noise beside her, something along the lines of “Oooo.” He followed that with a flippant, “Trouble in paradise??”

                Clarke wondered if her eyes were going to get stuck in the back of her head, at this rate. “OH MY GOD.” The entire table looked at her as she gestured wildly with her hands. “Whatever the hell everyone keeps going on about…all this Bellamy and me shit…it’s never going to happen. Obviously. Now leave me the hell alone.”

                With that, she stomped off toward the bar, sitting next to a fairly attractive guy that had been making eyes at her all night. She placed a hand on his arm, leaned in suggestively, and he immediately signaled Harper for a round of drinks for both of them.

                Everyone watched her dramatic exit, but by the time Bellamy turned back around, Raven and Octavia were grinning at each other.

                Octavia nudged Raven. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks?”

                Raven nodded, taking out her cell phone and pulling up the calendar. “Okay, betting pool. Who wants in?”

                The rest of the group immediately started pulling out their wallets and shouting out dates, everyone, that is, except for Lincoln, who just held his beer and glanced slowly back and forth between Clarke and Bellamy.

                Bellamy sighed. “You guys do know I’m standing right here, right?”

                Octavia patted his arm absentmindedly as she argued with Jasper about whether they were betting on “first kiss, first time they have sex, or when they start dating.”

                Bellamy set his half empty beer on the table. “Okay, then. I think it’s time for me to call it a night.”

                At that, Octavia looked at him weirdly. “You’re leaving already? It’s Friday night, Bell.”

                “Uhh…” He quickly pulled out his phone. “I might text Echo or something.”

                Echo was a former co-worker he’d hooked up with a few times.

                Octavia was still watching him a little strangely. “Oh. Okay. See you tomorrow?”

                “Sure. Night, guys.”

                As he was walking out of the bar, he sent a text.

                _Half hour?_

                He wasn’t even to his car yet when he got a reply.

                _Yup._

 

~~~~~~~ 

 

                Bellamy heard her coming up the stairs. She always wore shoes she could barely walk in, and she always got a little wobbly after a few drinks, so her presence in his apartment was always preceded by clomping and swearing in the stairwell outside his door.

                He grinned, leaning against the back of his couch and waiting for her.

                She came in the door he always left unlocked for her, throwing her purse on the floor and immediately kicking off her heels.

                Bellamy stalked toward her, wrapping one arm around her waist and using the other to push the door shut behind her. He immediately caged her against it with his body, his mouth stopping just a few centimeters from hers.

                “Never going to happen, huh?” He chuckled, his breath warm against her lips.

                She groaned. “Shut up and kiss me.”

 

 ~~~~~~~

 

                Afterward, they lay tangled on the rug in his entryway, her head pillowed on his chest. He stretched his arm a few feet to the left, dragging the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over them both.

                “Can I ask you something?” He said quietly, almost warily.

                “Hmm?”

                “Why are you so adamant about us not being a thing?”

                “What do you mean? We agreed to keep this a secret, didn’t we?”

                “Yeah, but that was months ago, when we weren’t sure if it was going to work. We didn’t want to make the group awkward if it ended up not working out. But…I mean…it’s working out, isn’t it? At least…I thought it was.”

                She turned, resting her chin on his chest so she could look up at him. “It is working out, Bell.”

                He nodded, seemingly trying to convince himself that she agreed. “Then don’t you think it’s time we told them?”

                She sighed. “Soon.”

                He laughed. “Seriously, though. Why are you so mean to them when they ask about us?”

                “They all think they’re so smart; acting like they know we’re going to get together, acting like they’ve been able to see this sexual tension between us for years. It’s fucking annoying.”

                He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Clarke? We ARE together, and there HAS been sexual tension between us for years.”

                “I know. That’s why it’s fucking annoying.”

                He laughed loudly, and she smiled when she felt the rumble in his chest.

                She turned serious after a moment. “Plus, at first it felt wrong, moving on so soon. But Lincoln said some things tonight that…made me see things differently.”

                Bellamy’s hand stilled on her shoulder. “Oh?”

                “Yeah.” She ran her hand gently over his stomach. “Bell, I thanked you for what you did…when you tried to save me. I thanked you for that, right? Cause I don’t…I still can’t believe you did that…for me.”

                He smiled softly down at her. “I’d do anything for you, Clarke.”

                Her heart stopped. She knew exactly what he just said…and she also knew exactly what he didn’t say. She voice was quiet when she spoke. “I love you too, Bell.”

                A smile, possibly wider than she’d ever seen, appeared on his face a second before his lips met hers. Before she knew it, she was laying fully on top of him and they were kissing softly, almost reverently.

                He stopped to take a breath, grinning up at her. “You know we have to tell them eventually, right?”

                “Do you remember when Octavia got obsessed with that soap opera in college? She loved that one couple that was having the torrid affair and she spent HOURS online, watching Youtube videos and reading fanfic and tweeting all these strangers about how hot they were and how much they loved each other?”

                Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah, I remember. I would have thought it was weird, except Miller basically does the same thing.”

                Clarke paused, leaning back to see his face better. “I’m sorry…what?”

                Bellamy’s grin widened. “Yeah, Miller. But his obsession isn’t a soap opera.”

                “…then what is it?”

                Bellamy waited, drawing out the suspense. “Harry Potter.”

                Clarke started laughing so hard she almost fell off Bellamy. “No. Stop.”

                “I’m not kidding. I probably wouldn’t have known, except I walked in our dorm room one day in college, and he was screaming at the twitter page he had up. Something about how ‘J.K. Rowling fucked up and everyone knew that Harry and Hermione should’ve ended up together and that this internet troll could kiss his avatar’…or something to that effect.”

                Clarke was gasping for breath at this point. “See? This is why!”

                Bellamy chuckled, pushing her hair behind her ear. “This is why, what?”

                “This is why I don’t want to tell them! It’s like they’re ‘shipping’ us. Plus, I’m just giving them ‘angst,’ right? Just think how much more excited they’ll be when we tell them we’ve been together for months.”

                “What does ‘shipping’ mean though? Basically that they think we’re hot together, we love each other, and they want us to be happy together?”

                Clarke’s gaze was steady on his. “Yeah,” she said softly.

                “Then I can’t really say I mind.”

                She leaned forward to give him a soft kiss. “Yeah, okay. When you put it that way.” She laid her head on his chest. “You know they’ve got a betting pool going on, right?”

                He laughed. “Yeah.”

                “Lincoln came up to me after you left. Completely ruined my fake flirting with that douchebag at the bar.”

                Bellamy’s arms tightened around her back. “Yeah, can we stop with the fake flirting with other people?”

                Clarke again raised her head to meet his gaze. “It was all fake. Just so Octavia wouldn’t suspect anything when I didn’t come home.”

                “I know. Doesn’t mean I like it. Plus, it’s getting harder and harder not to look at you like a lovesick idiot all the time.”

                She grinned up at him. “Ditto.”

                “Anyway, what were you saying about Lincoln?”

                “Oh. He came up and informed me that he’d picked a date for the pool.”

                “Okay…”

                “He picked two months ago.”

                Now it was Bellamy’s turn to laugh so hard he almost cried. “Bastard,” he managed to get out. “He’s going to win.”

                Clarke reached up, brushing his curls off his forehead. “Shipping, huh?”

                “Yeah.”

                “I could ship us.”

                He smiled, running his hand up and down her back. “Yeah. I could too.”


End file.
